


Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Light Angst, Male-Female Friendship, Referenced Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 15 of the Mapmaker Series. A human woman joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to Erebor as a mapmaker and finds a lifelong love.</p><p>Jealousy rears its head over Thorin's queen's friendship with Bard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart

The sun was shining and your heart was light as you crossed the valley, walking at a leisurely pace toward Dale. Trade negotiations were progressing so well that Bard, now king of the fledgling community, had invited Thorin to be his guest in the city for meetings to sort out the final details of the agreement and a feast to celebrate the renewed friendship between the kingdoms of dwarves and men. So it was that you, Thorin, Fili, Balin, and Ori, along with a guard and two ponies bearing the luggage, formed the small party that made its way toward Bard’s house in the center of town. 

 Bard was waiting in the hall of his home to greet you, his handsome face creasing in a welcoming smile. “King Thorin,” he bowed, and Thorin bowed in return, saying cordially, “King Bard.” Bard’s warm brown eyes looked to you, and he stepped forward, taking your hand in both of his and kissing it graciously. “My lady, it is a pleasure to see you. You’re looking well.” 

“Thank you, Bard,” you replied, with a cheerful smile and a curtsy. “How are the children?” 

“Looking forward to your coming,” he grinned. 

As if on cue, footsteps came pattering down the hall behind him and a young girl flung herself into your arms, hugging you tightly around the waist. “Oh, miss!” she cried happily, “you’re here!” 

“Tilda!” you exclaimed, embracing her. “Let me look at you.” You stepped back to appraise her, from her braided hair to the toes of her boots. “Oh, you’re definitely taller than last time I saw you, and even prettier,” you declared, and Tilda giggled, pleased. During the time you’d lingered in Laketown, lodged along with Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Oin in Bard’s cramped, drafty house, his youngest daughter had found a special place in your heart, and you’d both wept when the time had come to part ways. 

“Are you coming to the feast?” Tilda asked eagerly, and you nodded. 

“Of course! And tomorrow I’ll be able to spend time with you and Sigrid while everyone else is in the meetings.” The girl looked delighted, and your eyes met Bard’s with a smile as he watched you with his daughter. 

The feast that evening was wonderful. The large table overflowed with all manner of delicious dishes, many of which you hadn’t tasted since you’d fallen in with the dwarves and left your home in Bree, and musicians provided a merry background to the lighthearted chatter. The cool evening air flowed in through the open windows, making you realize how long it had been since you’d lived in a home that was so exposed to the elements. 

It was growing late, and Tilda had already been sent to bed by her father with the promise of having breakfast with you. Ori had also withdrawn for the night in anticipation of the next morning’s business. You sat next to Thorin at the table, but eventually, as he and Balin were engrossed in discussing forging and metalwork with one of Bard’s advisors and Fili was deep in conversation with Bard’s elder daughter Sigrid, you decided to take a turn around the room. 

Amiably returning the greetings of the other guests, you approached the window where Bard stood alone, looking out at the night. “How do you fare?” you asked him, with a sympathetic smile. 

“I am managing,” he answered, nodding, “This business of being a king is nothing I ever hoped or prepared for, but I am managing.” 

“It is a strange world, I suppose, where you and I should become a king and a queen,” you observed with a grin, and Bard chuckled. 

“Indeed it is.” He looked at you searchingly. “And you…are you content?” 

“Very,” you smiled. 

“I am glad,” he replied, his dark eyes kind. He glanced toward the table where your husband sat. “Thorin seems a changed man, I can only assume you deserve the credit for that.” 

You laughed. “He is well-loved, and that makes better people of us all.” 

“Well said,” Bard smiled. “I am very glad for you both.” 

At that moment, Balin approached to pay respects to his host and you excused yourself, Bard politely taking your hand and once again pressing it lightly to his lips as you left. Thorin watched you as you returned to his side, and you greeted him with a smile, taking your seat. “All well?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you answered, “have you enjoyed yourself?” 

“Yes…though I am a little weary. Shall we retire soon?” 

“Anytime you like,” you agreed, “it’s been a long day.”

The chambers Bard had provided for his guests were lovely, and you stood on the balcony of your bedroom, enjoying the moonlit view over the valley, where the Lonely Mountain loomed in the darkness. Thorin approached you so quietly, you didn’t know he was there until he spoke.

“You like it here, don’t you?” 

You looked at him, a bit taken aback. “Yes,” you replied truthfully, “it’s beautiful. Don’t you?” 

He didn’t answer your question. “Do you miss being among your own people?” 

“Your people are my people,” you answered lightly. 

“You know what I mean.” 

You frowned, trying to anticipate what he was getting at. “Thorin, have I ever given you reason to believe that I am unhappy in Erebor?” 

He met your eyes, his countenance troubled. “No,” he conceded. 

“Then why do you ask?” 

He turned his face toward the mountain, avoiding your gaze. After a moment he said, in a subdued voice, “Bard seems very happy to have you here…and you seem happy to be here. That is all.” 

Understanding began to dawn on you. “Thorin, are you jealous?” 

He continued to look away, but raised his chin slightly, an unconscious gesture of wounded pride. “I see how he kisses your hand, the way he looks at you.” 

“Thorin,” you said firmly, compelling him to turn to you. “The way he looks at me,” you repeated, “is as a friend who has shared common hardships and whom he wishes well. Nothing more.” 

Thorin spoke low as he voiced his true concern. “And…did you never think of him as something more? When you were thrown together in Laketown?” 

You paused, and when you answered, your own voice was quiet, but full of emotion. “Do you know what they said when the dragon was coming?” His eyes were riveted to yours. “They said that if the beast had left the mountain, the company of dwarves were all surely dead. I feared that I had lost you forever, and that Bard’s children were going to die before my eyes. _That_ is what I was thinking of in Laketown. So, no,” you couldn’t keep a slight edge of exasperation from your tone, “even if you had not already possessed my whole heart, there wasn’t much time to consider taking a lover.” 

There was a long silence as Thorin looked chastened. Finally, he found words. “Amrâlimê, I am sorry…I am sorry,” he said slowly, humbly. “I know your love and faithfulness are above reproach. I was jealous, to my shame. Please,” his face was imploring, “forgive your foolish husband?” 

You sighed, feeling your frustration melt away, and reached for him, wrapping your arms around him. He clasped you gratefully, the embrace tightening in the reconciliation you both craved. “I could never look at another man,” you whispered, close to his ear. “Do not imagine that I will ever regret becoming your wife.” 

“I promise I will never give you cause,” he replied earnestly, reaching to stroke your hair. 

Content in each other’s arms, you remained there on the balcony until at last you pulled back, looking into his eyes before softly pressing a kiss to his lips. Then you smiled, taking his hand, and wordlessly led him back into the bedroom, where your reconciliation would be made complete.


End file.
